


It's Just a Crush, Right?

by spellwovennight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Lacrosse, M/M, Scott/Allison - Freeform, Tattoos, The rest of the packs implied, YouTube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 01:42:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3156248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellwovennight/pseuds/spellwovennight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's innocently watching cat videos when he finds one of an enticing young man at a clinic playing with kittens.  He spends the next eight hours watching through his entire channel, and he's hooked. </p><p>But what's Derek going to do when he falls for the internet sensation?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Just a Crush, Right?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vendelin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vendelin/gifts).



> Vendelin, I hope this is what you were looking for! And thanks to everyone in the sprinting group for writing with me and helping me through parts! This was a lot of fun and hope we can do it again next year! (and yes, all those exclamation points are necessary)

As soon as Derek finishes his project at work, he closes up and hurries home.  He goes directly to his room, boots up his laptop and impatiently wais for it to load. He aggressively taps on the track pad to get the Internet browser to open more quickly – it doesn’t work. After a moment of stalling, eight different Internet windows pop open on his desktop.  He growls in annoyance and closes all but one, quickly typing YouTube into the URL bar.  The Stilespedia YouTube channel immediately pops up in the suggested websites, and Derek eagerly clicks on it.

 

Every Friday around three o’clock in the afternoon, Stilespedia uploads a new YouTube video and for the past few weeks Derek makes sure he’s home as soon as possible to watch them.  

 

It all started on a late Sunday a couple months ago. Derek was mindlessly browsing through the cute cat videos on YouTube when he found a video of a guy at at a vet clinic playing around with kittens and spurting out random ass facts about them (Derek learned that the nose print of a cat is like a fingerprint of a human – unique).  Derek was hypnotized by the young man’s long fingers as he picked up kitten after kitten. The long fingers that were attached to solid, strong looking hands that lead up to long and lean muscled arms and a broad shoulders.  Derek could have been happy to watch the man from the neck and below, but then he got stuck on the guy’s obscenely pink lips that never stopped moving (he was either talking or licking his lips or smiling infectiously), and then found an absurdly attractive nose (noses were not supposed to be attractive.  They were just weird looking, functional body parts). Finally, Derek found his eyes: warm, honey brown eyes framed with nice dark lashes.  They were gorgeous, just like the rest of him, but it was more than that. They were open and friendly, and full of life, Derek thought as he watched them light up as a kitten’s tiny, scratching tongue licked his nose. 

 

Derek spent the rest of the night – and well into morning – watching Stilespedia’s entire collection.  About one third of the way through the collection, Stiles had addressed his audience, asking them to respond with the biggest pet peeve. Derek, sleep-addled and not thinking about it, immediately typed his answer in the comment section (Over-bearing sisters and people that talk too loud in libraries).  After that, Derek found himself commenting on every video that he watched.  The comments getting less inhibited as it got later and later into the night.   Derek finally got some shut-eye and blearily woke up the next morning and went on with his day, not thinking too much about it (it being his comments, not the man).  Derek was having a hard time not thinking about the man that called himself Stiles with the energized eyes and pink lips and tried to focusing on his work during the day.

 

When he got home, he was surprised to see that he had multiple emails from YouTube, alerting him that he had responses to his comments.  Stiles had gotten a kick out of Derek’s eight-month late comments, and made fun of him as he responded. By the time Stiles reached the comments on his newest videos, he seemed to have realized that Derek had binge-watched his show and promptly started freaking out and blabbered how cool it was that he had an actual fan.  He just hoped his videos weren’t for some stupid ass drinking game. Or, if it was, that was pretty cool.

 

Stiles response on his latest video was only

 

**;)**

It wasn’t until Stiles’ next YouTube update, which Derek knew because the first time ever he used his YouTube account to subscribe to a user, that Derek realized what that winky face meant.

 

The first part of the video was normal – at least normal for Stilespedia.  Stiles was out in the woods at night under a fool moon with his friend, Scott, filming. They were just acting like punk ass kids while Stiles debated the full moon theories (not werewolves, which was Derek thought it was going to be about, but how people tend to go crazy on the full moon and how it should be tied to a woman’s menstrual cycle). The second part was completely different.  It cut to, what Derek assumed was his bedroom, and had just Stiles in front of the camera rambling on how proud he was to have a number one fan – Derek.  Well, he didn’t use Derek’s name.  He didn’t know Derek’s name, just his username NotaTeenWolf34 (It was an account he used mostly for junk mail and created when he started college where his mascot was the wolves.  He was too lazy to change it.)  Stiles then started making suggestive comments and how he could thank Derek (which Derek did not take even semi-seriously for a single second.  Nope.). 

 

Stiles ended his video saying “I just wanted to say thank you.   I’ll even have to give a you a hand” He said suggestively as he slowly checked out the video camera, his eyes trailing slowly downward.  “I mean a handshake! With your. . .hand.” He waggled his eyebrows gave a big cheesy smile and a wink before the video went black. 

 

Derek had automatically responded with a sarcastic remark and just like that, they were off.  They would carry conversations (mostly snarking and some flirting) in the comments and it became routine for Stiles to make some comment about Derek in someway in his videos. 

 

It had started out as a simple infatuation. There was a hot and funny guy on Derek’s laptop screen, and Derek watched all he could to get his fill. Derek could handle that. He’s handled dozens of similar crushes on other celebrities (though Stiles was his first internet sensation crush), and never expected much.  It was always in good fun, and most importantly, safe.  There were no illusions (or ones he really believed would happen anyway) of meeting any of them or actually falling for them. Love was a laughable thought with those crushes. 

 

Stiles, on the other hand, stopped being safe very quickly.  If Derek was honest to himself, he was never safe.  Stiles _talked_ to Derek. They had been conversing for months now, and Derek had formed a sort of relationship with him. Granted it was one based on Derek’s anonymity and the Internet, but Derek could write a couple of chapters about Stiles. He was a senior at the University of California majoring in Criminal Justice and minoring in psychology and history.  His father was a small town Sheriff and thought his son was heading to higher up positions like the FBI or Homeland Security.  Stiles, however, didn’t have plans to leave the West Coast and wanted to stay close to his dad and made family, as he called it.  Derek could tell, Stiles really admired his dad and wouldn’t mind falling his father’s footprints.  There was obvious lack of talk about his mother, and Derek didn’t ask. But, Derek knew all about Scott, Stiles’ practically brother and co-conspirator in everything. Scott was the one that helped Stiles film the videos and had changed his major six times; however, he did work part time at a vet clinic; hence the cat vidos. 

 

More importantly, Derek knew that sarcasm was Stiles’ first language and for every research heavy fact that Stiles’ spouted out of his mouth, he knew at least three pop culture particulars. He enjoyed poking fun at his friends, but not matter how much he laughed at Scott, Scott was always laughing with him. He was funny, but not cruel. Most amusing and most unfortunate for Derek, he also had a way to turn anything into a sexual innuendo, even when it shouldn’t work.  Derek always felt the heat rush to his face during those moments and found his pants a little too constricting.  But, he enjoyed flirting back and finding ways to stump Stiles in their conversations.

 

Unlike half of the people Derek had gone on dates with in the past, Stiles actually made him happy.  Plain and simple.  Yes, Derek could admit he was attracted to the man, but he looked forward to seeing Stiles writing a response to one of his comments even more so then seeing a new video.   Derek spent more time then he’d like to admit, thinking of Stiles and what he would say to him before he hit the comment button on YouTube.  But he spent even more time trying not to think of Stiles. He had never found it so hard to concentrate on work before.  Instead of leaving his phone in his pocket, Derek started leaving it on his desk; face up, so when Stiles responded to him, Derek could see the notification pop up on his phone. He never purposely checked his phone during the workday, but Derek found himself glancing at the phone’s blank screen more often than not. 

 

It was fine.  Derek was living his happy but ignorant life until Laura said something (of course, Laura just had to ruin it). 

 

“So, what’s their name?”  Laura had asked snagging some of their shared French Fries one afternoon when they met for lunch. 

 

Derek looked at her blankly, not entirely sure who she was speaking about. 

 

Laura rolled her eyes.  “Oh, c’mon.  I’m not stupid. You’ve obviously been seeing someone for a couple of weeks now.”  She waved her hand at his face.  “You’ve been all smiles and less resting bitch face lately.  I just don’t know why you haven’t told me.  I tell you everything.”

 

“That’s part of the problem,” Derek muttered, trying not to think of some of the more explicit details Laura had shared after her last date. 

 

“Oh, please.”  Laura said exasperated.   “We’re both adults here, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.  Besides we’ve heard mom and dad –“

 

“No!” Derek exclaimed loudly, cutting Laura off. “I’m in denial about that.”

 

Laura exhaled loudly.  “Fine, then back to the point.  Tell me about this mystery girl.  Or boy.”

 

Derek squirmed and focused his attention on his Italian beef sandwich.  “I’m not dating anyone, Laura.”

 

Laura narrowed her eyes at him. “Really?” She asked skeptically.

 

Derek half shrugged and lifted his Italian beef up to his lips. 

 

“Works just been good,” he told her before he took a bite.

 

Laura scoffed and then quickly reached over and yanked his shirt collar down, causing Derek to fall forward, knocking his drink over.

 

“Dammit, Laura,” He growled and started cleaning up the mess.   


When Laura hadn’t moved, he looked up ready to bark an order out to her, but was caught by surprise by the look on her face. Her eyes were opened wide in confusion as they stared at Derek’s shirt, and her mouth in a shape of an o.

 

“Laura,” Derek snapped at her. Laura jumped and finally realized the mess that was sitting in front of her.  Without a word, she helped clean up the mess and a few minutes later they were sitting at the booth, back where they had started.

 

“You weren’t lying,” Laura said accusingly.

 

“No,” Derek said pointedly.  “I wasn’t.”

 

“You don’t have any hickies.” Laura said with confusion, her view drawn back to Derek’s neck. 

 

“No, I don’t.  I’m not dating anyone.”

 

Just then, Derek’s phone, which he had placed on the table before the meal, lit up with a notification, and, reflexively, Derek went to check on it, automatically smiling when he saw it was a reply from Stiles.

 

Laura smirked.  “You might not be dating anyone, but there is a girl. Or guy.  Spill.”

 

“It’s just this guy that has his own YouTube channel. We just chat every so often. Not a big deal.” Derek replied, trying to keep it nonchalant. 

 

“Oh, really?  Is this the same YouTube channel that you’ve been talking about nonstop for the past month?  Stilespedia or something?”

 

Derek opened his mouth to argue and ended up grounding his teeth down instead.  He couldn’t refute that.

 

Laura smiled triumphantly.  “That’s why your face looked like sunshine and rainbows. You liiiiiiike him. You want to daaaaaate him.” She sung badly and off-key.

 

Derek looked back at her in horror, because she was right.  He did like him, and the thought of dating Stiles made his heart skip a beat. 

 

So, no.  Stiles wasn’t safe.  Derek had fallen hard for Stiles, and he was the one thing he couldn’t have.  It was fine before Derek figured it out.  There was the excitement and nerves of flirting and making a new friend.  The pull of getting all the information he could about the man.  Derek was able to enjoy the moments without much thought. But ever since Laura pointed it out, Derek couldn’t help but feel the hopelessness in every exchange. Derek was never going to meet Stiles and even if he did – Stiles was just flirting on the Internet. It didn’t mean he actually liked him back.  It was doomed to end with heartbreak. 

 

And yet, Derek couldn’t give Stiles up. Instead, he pined from afar and continued to be obsessed with Stiles’ videos, as ever, which is why Derek is eagerly waiting for the newest video to load. 

 

Derek forces himself to pause the video at the very beginning as he waits for the entire thing to load. As much as he hates waiting now, he hates it even more when the damn things stops in the middle to buffer. When he has the entire thing loaded, he can go back and re-watch parts with pleasure.  If it’s not fully loaded, it tends to start reloading when he does that.

 

When its finally loaded, Derek goes ahead and pushes play.

 

The video starts off in what Derek thinks is a tattoo parlor. There’s artwork all over the walls and he can see cases of different types of rings for piercings in the background.

 

Stiles is standing up front, and Derek recognizes his friend, Scott, sitting besides him in the chair looking ready to get a tattoo. A third man, the tattoo artist, Derek assumes, is facing away from the camera, behind the chair.

 

“So my friend, here, Scott.”  Stiles pauses.  “You guys know Scott, right?”

 

Scott grins and waves at the camera.

 

“Yup.  He’s my best friend and brother from another mother, who might as well be my second mother who might murder him when she finds he’s gotten a tattoo.”

 

“She knows,” Scott interrupts.

 

Stiles eyebrows go up and he turns to his friend in surprise.  “Really? She knows you’re getting Allison’s name tattooed onto your body?”

 

Scott stutters, and Stiles rolls his eyes and turns back to the camera.  “As you might have noticed.  And I really hoped you were able to put this together already, my man, Scott, is getting a tattoo today.  Actually two tattoos, but there was no way for you to know that.  The first is a two circles going around his upper bicep, which Scott apparently just _likes_.” Stiles explains with obvious distaste. “And the second is ‘Allison’ just above his heart.” Stiles turns to Scott with a judging look at that.

 

Scott just shrugs.  “We’re meant to be.  She’s –“

 

“Oh, we know!”  Stiles says stopping him.  “I think the entire audience knows.  She’s the light of your life and has the best hair, and soon you’re going to be thinking about her and sex.”

 

Scott grins crookedly at him.

 

“Oh my god, I just had to point that out.” Stiles mutters to himself. “Okay, so tattoos. This is Paul, Scott’s tattoo artist who is still prepping things.” Stiles says gesturing to the man behind Scott’s chair.

 

“Basic information.  The tattoo machine isn’t just the needle. It has three other parts. There’s the tube that holds the ink, the electric motor, and a foot pedal.  Kinda like a sewing machine, which makes morbid sense because we’re literally sewing designs into the skin.  Most tattoo ink, like the ink Scotty here is going to be getting is made from bone char. In the past, however, urine has been used for the ink.”  Stiles turns to Scott and continues brightly. “Aren’t you lucky you’re skin is only going to be permanently infused with dead animal bones and not urine?”

 

Scott grimaces in return. 

 

Derek can’t help but run his own hand across his upper back where his own tattoo lays.  He tries to ignore the disappointment settling in his gut.  Does Stiles not like any tattoos or just the ones that Scott’s getting, he can’t help but wonder.  Derek agrees with Stiles’ feelings about Scott’s tattoos.  The first one seems meaningless, and the second one seems like a relationship waiting to go wrong.  

 

On the computer screen, Paul had turned around with the tattoo gun on his hand.

 

“Oh!”  Stiles says.  “Looks like Paul’s about ready to go.  He’s already traced on the design on Scott’s skin.  Someone,” Stiles says shooting a look at Scott.  “told me the camera had been on when it wasn’t.” 

 

Paul and Scott exchange a few words too quiet for the camera to pick up, and Stiles approaches the camera, his face getting bigger and bigger in the frame.  Soon its just Stiles face that fills Derek’s entire screen, and Derek quickly hits the pause button.   Stiles is slightly smiling.  Not a purposeful smile at someone or anything in particular, but one of those half smiles that shows that he’s just generally happy.   Derek notes how his well his dark eyelashes show off against his pale skin, and he wishes that those eyes were actually looking into his.  Derek traces his finger across the computer screen where Stiles’ cheek is brushing across his moles.  He stares at Stiles’ lips and wets his own before he shakes himself out of it and forces himself to resume the video. 

 

Stiles picks up the camera and puts himself on the operator side and turns the action towards Scott.  “Tattoo comes from the word tatau.”  Stiles says from behind the camera.  Paul turns on the gun and begins his work. “It’s Tahitian and translates to leave a mark.   It represents a rite of passage.”  Stiles shifts the camera and zooms in on the needle on Scott’s skin. 

 

After a few moments of watching the Scott get pierced over and over again by the needle, the camera starts swaying and is knocked over sideways.  “Stiles?” Derek hears Scott yell. There’s some muffling and then the buzzing from the tattoo machine stops, and Scott appears on the screen.

 

“I think he fainted,” Derek hears and then the camera goes black. 

 

Before Derek can worry too much, Scott’s face reappears on the screen.  “Stiles is going to kill me for this, but sometimes it’s worth it.  This,” he gestures towards his arm, “is my new tattoo. Didn’t it turn out great? Stiles is fine by the way. He doesn’t like needles very much. Or blood.  Or any of that stuff, so he fainted.  I think he forgot about the video, because he hasn’t asked about it yet, but I figured you guys deserved to see the fainting happening! Sorry for a weird and short video, I’m sure they’ll be normal next week.”

 

Scott reaches over to turn the camera off and then pauses.  “Oh, I forgot. Stiles was going to say something to NotaTeenWolf.  Um, I think he was planning to say I can be the tattoo between your legs? No that’s not right. Tattoo my name on your – no. I’m sure it was something he usually says, so don’t worry.  He didn’t forget you!”

 

When the screen goes black again, it’s the end of the video.

 

Derek stares at the screen for few seconds before Scott’s words hit him.  As he feels the heat rising to his cheeks, Derek collapses his face in his hand and groans. Derek knew he and Stiles had flirted with him at the end of the videos, but having Scott say it and acknowledge it was another thing completely.  And what was the “he didn’t forget you” mean anyhow?  The fact that Scott felt the need to say something, well, it almost seemed like it was important to Stiles. 

 

Derek ignores that rush of hope in his chest and shakes his head.  He’ not going there. He’s already set up for heartbreak as it is. Instead, he reaches out, cracks his knuckles and scrolls down to the comment section.  He’s going to play this off as normal and totally cool. Derek spends almost ten minutes working on his comment, before he’s content with it and publishes it.

 

**Don’t worry Scott (and Stiles), I know I’m unforgettable.  Just like those lines you tried feeding me. They were too awful to forget. I hope they were due to Scott’s poor memory.  Although I should know better, your innuendos and puns are no better than that, Stiles.**

Cool and collected.  That’s exactly what the comment is  Derek digs his nails into his skin (his nervous habit that’s left him bleeding more often than he’d care to admit) as he recalls the video. When the camera had toppled over, he thought his heart was going to beat out of the chest.  He knew it couldn’t be good, and then Scott’s reaction had made Derek grip the laptop as he silently urged the video to go faster.   When Scott’s face, instead of Stiles’ appeared after the blackout, Derek thought he was going to be sick, and even now he has an overwhelming urge to be there for Stiles. He just wants to see if he’s alright.

 

He gently opens his palms, and slowly types out another message. 

 

**Stiles, I hope you’re okay.**

He resists the urge to write Love, Derek or put his phone number in and tell him to call him or ask for address to make a crazy roadtrip to see his body’s still intact for himself.  He keeps it simple, and submits it.

 

He gets up to take a hot shower, hoping that it will calm some of his nerves.  He walks out of his room and runs into Laura, who raises an eyebrow.

 

“What are you doing?” She asks.

 

Derek looks at her in confusion. “I’m going to take a shower.”

 

“Already?”

 

“Yes?  Wait. What do you mean already?”

 

Laura just hums and then grins wickedly. “Oh, it’s just that you normally don’t shower for a good hour after you get home on Fridays.  You know after watch that Stilespedia show. Not in the mood tonight, little bro?”

 

Derek clenches his jar and pushes past her and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.  He desperately tries to remember why he agreed to live with his sister as he turns on the hot water (it was smart money strategy, although Derek’s not sure if its worth it), and then, for the second time that hour, groans into his hands. He did not need to know that Laura knew about his post-Stilespedia jerk off sessions.  Red-faced and burning with humiliation, Derek steps into the shower, and prays the hot water contains some magical forgetting properties that night. 

 

* * *

  

After his shower, Derek sneaks out of the apartment (yes, he’s acting like a teenager, but he has no desire to run into Laura) and meets his friend Boyd at one of the local bar.  They get dinner and stay late for drinks, mostly just bitching about their week.  Derek loves Boyd, because Derek knows he’s forcing the conversation to stay in safe areas (away from internet, Laura, and dating topics), but Boyd never pushes. He raises and eyebrow after Derek redirects the conversation for the third time that night but goes along with it. Eventually, Boyd instinctually just stays away from the hot-button topics and the conversation carries on naturally, and Derek forgets about Stiles and Laura and enjoys the night.

 

It’s not till Derek gets home, a little more than tipsy (maybe closer to drunk) and goes to burrow under his covers that he thinks of Stiles again.  He goes to lift his comforter up to get in bed and his laptop goes crashing on the floor.

 

“Fuck,” Derek hisses, bending over to pick it up. Nothing seems to be wrong with it, and when he looks at the screen, he sees the Stilespedia video is still pulled up. Grabbing the laptop close to his chest, so it doesn’t fall again, Derek plops down on his bed and refreshes the page to make sure everything’s still working **.**

 

He clicks play and when he sees the images moving and hears sound he knows the laptops fine.  When he goes to close the computer when Stiles’ voice starts coming out of his speakers.  He smiles dopily and decides he should watch some of Stiles before bed.  He frowns when he focuses on the current video. He does not want to watch the one where Stiles gets hurt.  He scrolls down to click on a different video, hoping the one where Stiles plays lacrosse (he doesn’t play a lot in the video, but enough that Derek likes to see how his muscle move beneath his sweat soaked shirt) is the suggested YouTube list when he sees the responses under his comments.

 

He blinks as he tries to focus on the words. The first response is from Scott.

 

**The word thing is all Stiles.  Leave me out of it.**

Derek snorts and reads on Stiles’ response.

 

**The word thing is all Stiles WHEN SAID PROPERLY, SCOTT!  Don’t listen to him, _I_ don’t even know what he was trying to say.  But, let’s just say, _I would_ be the tattoo between your legs *wink, wink*. Scott’s on BFF Time Out. He’s a traitor for putting up this video.  So long as you don’t mock me you are now upgraded to BFF.  **

Underneath, is another comment from Stiles.

 

**Nope. I regret that entirely. I take it back – I DID NOT REPEAT THE RIDICULOUSLY STUPID WORDS THAT SCOTT SAID!  Those words never passed my lips – or were typed by my fingers. It didn’t happen.**

Derek can’t help but burst into helpless giggles and happily starts typing, deciding to steal some of Stiles’ moves as he does.

 

**I wouldn’t mind for you to be between my legs ;)**

 

He publishes it without thinking and then spies Stiles’ response to his second comment.

 

**P.S. I’m fine, dude.  Thanks ;)**

 

**I’m glad.**

He sends that in and then gets distracted by the video of Stiles with all the kittens.  His first Stiles’ video!  He happily clicks on it and falls asleep rewatching Stilespedia. 

 

* * *

 

He wakes up the next morning with Laura blasting music in the apartment.  He moans, curls up into himself and buries his head under his pillow.  His stomach feels like someone tried to make a balloon animal with it, and he just wants to sleep off this horrible hangover, but Laura’s made that impossible.  After five minutes of trying to get back to sleep in a fit of denial, he finally throws the covers off and stumbles out of bed.

 

The red blaring light of his alarm clock catches his eye, and he swears under his breath.  Eight AM is way to early to be up on a Saturday morning.  

 

He walks into the kitchen where Laura is currently dancing in her pajamas as she makes pancakes.  Derek pads as quietly as he can towards the island, and snatches her phone of the counter and silences it.  The apartments lapses into silence.  For about a second.

 

“Hey!”  Laura yells, turning around from the stove. 

 

“What the fuck, Laura?” Derek growls back.

 

“Don’t get all grumpy on me.  I’m making you pancakes.  You’ll feel better after you’ve eaten something.”

 

“Doubt that,” Derek mutters.

 

Laura rolls her eyes and turns back to the stove. “Just don’t be an idiot and drown them in syrup, like you usually do.”

 

Derek glares at the back of her head and heads over to the counter grabbing a glass and the bottle of Tums – which are gone.

 

“Laura, where are the Tums?”

 

Derek watches as she stills for a minute and then continues cooking, ignoring him. 

 

“Laura,” he barks.

 

“I think we’re out.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

She turns and shrugs apologetically over her shoulder. “I may have some Pepto Bismol that I can grab when I’m done here.”

 

“Get them now, I’ll finish,” Derek says, trying to push Laura away from the stove but she slaps his hand with the spatula.

 

“I’m not letting you burn our breakfast, Derek. Go drink some water and sit down. I’m almost done.”

 

Derek pouts, but fills up his glass and takes a seat at the table and patiently (or not so much) waits for Laura.

 

Five minutes later, Derek’s drank two glasses of water, has taken some Pepto Bismol and has a stack of pancakes in front. He reaches over to grab the butter and Laura frowns at him. 

  
“Am I supposed to eat them plain?”  He demands.

 

“You could do peanut butter or jelly or something a little less fattening.”

 

Derek rolls his eyes and stubbornly starts spreading butter onto his pancakes. 

 

“Whatever” Laura mutters and dives into her own batch of pancakes, which are covered with butter and syrup, Derek notes with a pang of jealousy. 

 

After they’d eaten a couple of pancakes and forgotten their hostility, Derek asks “Why are we up at eight AM and why are you making pancakes?”

 

“One, I made pancakes because we’re up at eight AM. Two, Cora called last night to change the skype date.  She couldn’t do it because of this and that.  Eight-thirty was the only time she had.  Or six-thirty for her.”

 

Derek grimaces, and hee thought they were up early.

 

“If she’s willing to be up at six-thirty to talk to us, I figure we can manage eight-thirty.”  Laura explains **.**

 

“I guess,” Derek grumbles.

 

Cora, Derek decides, did not wake up at six-thirty. Her hair does not look slept in and she’s wearing night clothes.  He’s pretty sure she never went to sleep, which is NOT the same as waking up early on a Saturday.  Derek listens to Cora talk in her quiet dorm room as he pouts.  She mostly talks about being busy with work and the internship that she has, plus keeping up with classes and attempting a social life (okay, Derek will admit she’s a little busy), and then she’s demanding to know when they’re flying out to visit her at school. 

 

“We’re doing what?” Derek asks wearily at the screen.

 

“Visit.”  Cora responds shortly. 

 

Derek and Laura exchange glances. They had both enjoyed college, but as adults, neither had any desire to return to a college campus.

 

“I’m a senior.  It’s my last year, and neither of you have visited me at school, and I’m not planning in walking in graduation, because I should be doing the peace corps by then.  So, you’re coming. There’s this presentation that I’m doing next month on the eighth.”

 

“We’ll look into it,” Laura promises.

 

Cora stares unblinkingly at the screen.

 

“Promise.” Derek adds. 

 

Cora nods and even smiles a little. Derek can hear Cora’s door open and there’s a rush of noise that enters the room.  

 

There’s shouts of Cora and people talking over each other. 

 

He hears someone tell her it’s the best night ever before she says to goodbye to her siblings and closes Skype.

 

Derek stares at the screen until Laura shuts it, wondering why that voice sounded so familiar. 

 

* * *

 

 

The following week goes by incredibly fast. Derek gets put on a new project at work. It’s Erica’s birthday on Thursday, and Derek hadn’t bought her a present yet, so he spends a lot of time looking for ideas online before he realizes he doesn’t have time to get anything delivered. Then, h has to bare the shopping malls looking for a gift that she’ll actually appreciate. Laura and Derek spend a lot of time arguing and looking at flights to California as they attempt to figure out the best time to visit Cora.  And, Derek’s conversations with Stiles’ seem to have been cranked up a notch. Not only do they respond to comments so fast that they might as well be texting, the flirting only gets more intense.

 

By Saturday morning, Derek has talked to his boss and arranged things with the project manager so he’s good to take a week off work to visit Cora.  He and Laura finally let Cora know and booked their flight and the hotel the night before. He was still suffering from the hangover that was from Erica’s birthday party (not only could she drink, but she could hold her liquor).   He ended up getting her an aromatherapy kit that helped relax and ‘beautify’ from some high-end version of Bath and Bodyworks, which she immensely appreciated on Friday when she nursed her own hangover.  Derek stayed up late that Friday night before chatting with Stiles after he watched his new video. So when Derek and Laura return to the apartment after their not so consistent Saturday family brunch early that morning, he’s feeling cranky, tired, and super horny.

                                                                                    

Laura goes straight back to her bedroom to take a nap, and Derek intends to follow her lead, except he notices he a new notification from YouTube – he has a message. 

                                                                                     

Derek’s never gotten a message on YouTube before. Actually, he didn’t even know you could get messages on YouTube.  He peels off his uncomfortable navy slacks and belly flops onto his bed. He makes himself comfortable, cuddling his pillow beneath his chest, and opens up the application on his phone. Sure enough, he has an message from one Stilespedia. 

 

Derek can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face and squeezes the pillow tighter to his chest in happiness.  He quickly opens the message, eager to read what Stiles had sent him.

 

**Dude, I consider myself pretty tech savvy, in the know, hip and all that. I mean I rank as an expert in google-shu, and I couldn’t tell you how many hours I’ve spent on the computer in my young, adult life.   Well, I could probably figure out the average, but that would take time. And effort.  Let’s not do that.**

**BUT I JUST FOUND OUT I HAD LIKE HUNDREDS OF MESSAGES WAITING FOR ME IN MY YOUTUBE ACCOUNT?!?!?! HOW DID I NOT KNOW THAT MESSAGES WERE A THING ON YOUTUBE?**

**My first though (well, besides holy fuck YouTube has messages, how did I not know that, and daaaaaamn I have a lot of reading to do) was that we sooo could’ve been talking through this the entire time!**

**You know, if you want.**

**But, before you say no, you have no idea how much and how often I’ve had to tame those comments down from what I would usually say and what I wanted to say (ok, so rethinking what I would usually say is probably the best for everyone – I’m even amazed at some of the stuff that comes out of my mouth) for like audience and PG crap.  Which I generally break, but it’s never above PG-13.**

**But this would just make it so much fucking easier to talk to, and not be available to everyone and their mothers to see.  It can be private.  If you want it to be private.**

**And I’ve written too much, but I’m too lazy to go back and edit it, so respond?**

Derek doesn’t hesitate and quickly as he can on phone’s small stupid ass keyboard, types out his own message.

 

**I didn’t know YouTube had a message system either, although I would not consider myself technology inclined.  I don’t even know what google-shu is (and googling it was not informative).**

**And I much prefer this method of communication. This way we won’t have random people inserting themselves into the conversation.  It will be a nice change.**

**And I’m looking forward to hear what you usually say without the PG-13 filter (and part scared, I think).**

**I guess if I was going to say something that I wouldn’t normally on the comment section, is that I’m so fucking glad its Saturday. I still think I’m hungover from whatever shit Erica (the birthday girl) poured down my throat on Thursday, I’m horny as hell, and since we had to attend family brunch this morning, tired as fuck. Naptime is in order.**

Derek looks at the last paragraph before deciding to just fuck it and hit send. He really doesn’t think that it’s the worst thing Stiles has ever heard nor does he think he’ll stop talking to him for it.  It’s just a tad more personal than he’d normally share.  If he’s being honest, he’d never share that he was horny except with a girlfriend or boyfriend.  And then Derek realizes hat he’s starting to act like Stiles is his boyfriend or a very attainable potential one.  Derek collapses his head into the pillow by his chest and bemoans his life. Stiles was an online figure and not an achievable boyfriend, Derek strictly reminds himself.

 

Except, Derek thinks, as his phone chimes with another YouTube notification alerting that Stiles messaged him back, was that how many people get actual messages from their celebrity crushes.  Not only that, but Stiles had pointed out that it was a chance for them to be private with one another. Which leads to being more personal, his mind supplies for him. 

Derek puts his thoughts on hold, and opens the message.

 

**Naps are a wonderful things.   It only took me eighteen years to learn that.  I was one of those kids that were always bouncing off the wall, and I would NEVER crash. Makes no sense, right? My parents would try to enforce naptime by locking me in my room, and I would tend to cause a hurricane being contained in such a small space.  They stopped trying to do that when I tried to climb out to the tree outside my bedroom window.  Trying to climb out the window was probably the best decision of my life.  I fell and screamed bloody murder, so my parents took me to the hospital. I broke my wrist but it was ok, because that’s how I met Scott!  His mom was my nurse.  I cried, and he let me play with his Batman action figure.  We’ve been best friends ever since.**

**But naps have been my savoir since I’ve started college.  As in I would not have survived without them.  I would be deader then dead.  And naps will stop you from feeling tired and cranky, but probably not horny. Unless your nap decides to get real creative, but even then, you’ll still probably feel horny. I know I do.  Wet dreams kinda propel the sexual frustrations.**

**Sooooooo, I was thinking if you wanted a cure to the sexual frustrations you should send me a text.  Maybe I can help you out with that ;)**

Derek blinks at the phone number listed at the bottom of the message.  Stiles phone number. Which he freely gave. For sexting.  With Derek.  Derek harshly breathes out his nose.  He can’t believe he’s already getting half-hard just at the prospect at sexting with Stiles. 

 

With shaking fingers, he copies the phone number and sends a simple text. 

 

**Hey**

Of course, that’s when he starts to get nervous. It’s not that Derek’s never texted before; he just has never been any good at it.  Figuring out what to type and concentrating long enough to type had been a struggle for him in the past.  Real life sex is so much easier.  And hotter.  Derek finds it easier to communicate through their bodies.  He can always read his lovers by the way they react to him. How their muscles flex when they enjoy something or to move on when they aren’t as responsive. Derek loves the feel of their hot skin yielding and reacting under his.  Derek barely holds in a whimper as he pictures it and slowly grinds his hips down on his sheets.  He is one hundred percent hard now.

 

His phone buzzes with responses from Stiles.

 

**You answered!**

**Wasn’t sure if you would.**

**Thought maybe I was pushed too far.**

**If you don’t want me to help you out, we can talk this way.  It’s much easier than through YouTube.**

**Not that I’m not willing to help you out.  Because I am.  A lot.**

**Actually you might be helping me out at this point.**

Derek rolls onto his back and groans as he read the last text, picturing Stiles sitting on his bed with his phone with his dick hard and noticeable through his pants. 

 

**I want.**

Derek sends back.  He’s about to send another message about how he’s not very good at sexting or isn’t sure how they want to do this, when he gets a new message.

 

**Thank god.**

 

Attached is a picture of Stiles in just his boxers that are secured under his balls where he’s cupping himself, letting his pink, shiny cock stand out against his pale, toned stomach.  

 

Derek bites down on his lip, hard and palms himself. He quickly strips off his shirt and takes his own picture with the head of his cock just peaking out of his boxer-briefs.  He keeps the photo from the neck down, just to be on the safe side of sending nudes to what could be a potential stranger, but Derek doesn’t like to think of it that way. 

 

He quickly gets a response.

 

**Fuck. You’re so fit. I want to lick your abs. And you cock.  Would you like that?**

Derek pulls his boxer-briefs off completely as he grips himself firmly in his hand and spreads the small amount precum that had gathered at his tip and rubs it downwards as he thinks of Stiles mouth on his body.  His breathing becomes more labored, as he continues jerking himself.  Instead of trying to respond with text, he sends Stiles another picture. This time, it’s a full frontal of his dick, hoping that would answer his question.

 

**Oh shit. I bet you would feel good inside of me. Nice and heavy on my tongue.**

Is what Stiles sends next, and Derek moans as he imagines his cock resting between Stiles’ plush, pink lips. He spreads his legs a little further and plants his feet on the bed, his hips now moving desperately into his enclosed fist. 

 

He hangs on to his phone like a lifeline and immediately opens the next text. 

 

**Have I mentioned that I love playing with foreskin?**

Derek feels himself getting close as he thinks about Stiles getting creative with his tongue ad he uses it to pull and push against his foreskin, and maybe sliding in underneath. . .  Derek wipes his thumb over his head, thinking of the hot, wet texture that Stiles’ tongue would be. 

 

Derek clings the image of Stiles kneeling on his bed. Stiles’ arms wrapping around Derek’s torso as he goes down on him.  It only takes a few more minutes before Derek reaches his orgasm, cum shooting over his hand and stomach.

 

He takes a minute to catch his breath, before he grabs his phone and sends the picture of his chest to Stiles.

 

A couple minutes later he gets a response.  


**Damn, that’s hot.**

There’s another picture, similar to the one Derek sent Stiles.  Cum covers Stile’s torso, and Derek wants to lean in and clean the mess from his happy trail.

 

**You’re going to make me want to go again.**

****

Derek sends Stiles, trying not to think of all the things he wants to do with him. 

 

**I guess that means it was as good for you as it was for me?**

Derek shakes his head.  **You have no idea.**

**You should tell me your name, so next time I can moan it as I come.**

Derek’s breath hitches, and thinks that Stiles is going to be the death of him. 

**It’s a nice name.  Go take your nap, Derek. I’ll talk to you later.**

 

Derek hums happily and puts his phone on the nightstand. He grabs his underwear to clean up the mess on his chest, and rolls over to go to sleep.

 

* * *

 

The following weeks fly by.  Derek stops pretending like he isn’t getting his hopes up about Stiles, because thing are fucking fantastic.  They continued on the sexting path and more.  Sometimes, Derek finds himself out in a public, while Stiles texts him pictures, and follows it up with conversation.  As much as he’s loathe to admit it, it turns him on even more to have to prevent or conceal his own bone and still provide inspiration to get Stiles off.  And, considering Derek still wasn’t very apt to text and masturbate at the same time, it was the one time that Derek can take advantage of texting out phrases of all the dirty things he’d like to do to him. 

 

But the best part, which only proved how far gone Derek was, was the increasing presence of Stiles in his life. They would text on Derek’s commute to work while Stiles was just getting up.  Derek would distract Stiles from his psychology class while he ate his lunch, and they texted every night before bed without fail.

 

Derek never realized how filtered their conversations were on YouTube, but Stiles had been right.  The swearing and the sexual thoughts had gone through the roof once they started texting, as well as actual information about real life. Derek knew what street Stiles lived in, his favorite coffee shop, his hometown, and so on. 

 

This wasn’t one-sided.  Derek would spend hours complaining about his older sister and how much he regretted agreeing to her plan of living together for cost-effectiveness.  That he grew up in the city, and his parents still live in the same condo that overlooked Central Park.  Derek talked about how much his family meant to him, but sometimes he wondered about leaving New York like his younger sister had.  That he was looking forward to visiting her more than he’d ever tell her.

 

The best part was that there was nothing slanted about the conversations.  Nothing that made Derek feel like he was a fan, and Stiles the unreachable figure. Stiles would be the one to text him random information as he researched for his term paper for no final reason. It warmed Derek’s heart that Stiles genuinely seemed to care for him as a friend, and not just a booty call.

  
When Derek and Laura arrive in California, Derek and Stiles’ conversations were slowly pushing towards the whole real life dilemma. Although Stiles knew he had two sisters and an uncle named Peter, Derek still had only told him his first name and hadn’t sent any pictures of his face.  A week ago, they started talking on the phone, and there was a surprisingly serious conversation about whether Derek or Stiles was dating anyone. Derek ached to ask to meet him or to fly him out to New York, but he faltered every time they talked. But they were getting there, slowly but surely.  Derek just wished that he had enough guts to make it happen sooner. 

 

Derek’s emotionally drained when the plane touches down in California.  Laura’s not scared of flying necessarily.  She’s perfectly fine once they’re nice and steady in the air, but she’s stressed out as fuck during take off and landing.  It didn’t help that they ran into turbulence half an hour before they began their descent, so the last hour Derek tried to keep Laura calm and not bite anyone (like the stewardess’) heads off. 

 

So Derek decides ignore Laura till he’s sane again, as they head towards the baggage claim.  He forgets all about Laura when he see’s Cora.  He hadn’t seen her since the Christmas before last, and it was really good to see her in person again. 

 

“Cora!”  Laura squeals from behind him and goes rushing at her, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug.

 

“Laura,” Cora manages to croak out after returning the hug.  “You’re breaking my ribs.”

 

“Sorry,” Laura says stepping back. “It’s just really good to see you.”

 

Cora nods and gives her small smile. “You too.”

 

Derek finally reaches the two of them and drops his backpack on the ground.   
  
“Cora,” he greets.

 

“Derek.”

 

“Oh my god,” Laura mutters.  “I’m going to get our bags.”

 

They wait until Laura turns away and then they both smile, and Derek pulls her into a hug.  “Missed you.” He says resting his chin on her head, something that would bug her as a kid.

 

“Missed you, too,” she says before giving him one more tight squeeze and pulling back. 

 

They turn and filter through the airport crowd to get to Laura and the bags. 

 

“You seem fine.” Cora comments.

 

Derek snorts.  “Thanks.  So do you,” he peers down at her.  “You could probably use more sleep.” He adds after glancing at the circles under her eyes.

 

Cora playfully shoulders him. “Tell me something I don’t know. “ They walk the rest of the way in silence until they join Laura at the baggage claim.  Laura keeps assuming that every bright purple suite case is hers. She’s wrong until the eighteenth one (Cora counted quietly next to Derek as they waited), obviously hers due to the family crest, a triskelion embroidered onto the front pocket.

 

* * *

 

 

Unfortunately, Cora still lives in the dorms. Granted its one of the suite style dorms, but dorms nonetheless and there really isn’t adequate room for Laura and Derek to crash there too, so they got a hotel room.  One hotel room that he was going to have to share with Laura. Derek had no interest in being alone with Laura, but thankfully Cora seemed to want to include them in everything, which was rare for her.  Between the three of them, Derek and Cora were the most introverted, and the need for personal time was crucial.  Derek couldn’t tell if she was just excited to have them visiting her school for once or was trying to keep the peace between Derek and Laura.  Either way, Derek was grateful. They spend the entire day outside of the hotel and Cora shows them around.     

 

For dinner, Cora brings them to one her favorite places.  She tells them that she and her friends spend a lot of time in here, and Derek can see why. The middle of the restaurant is set up in typical sit-down style, with rows of tables and chairs. Around the walls of the building, however, are larger, comfy chairs and couches with side tables and coffee tables. Each of the four corners is arranged so there’s a circle of chairs surrounding a table, obviously meant for groups. The people sitting around the edges, go up to the counter and order food for themselves, generally getting coffee, but Derek spies a couple that pick-up full entrees and attempt to eat it while trying to continue typing on their laptop.  It must be a great place for students to study and still get real food when they get hungry.   

 

For such a small place, the menu is pretty extensive. They have a section for hipsters, Derek notes as he sees the words organic, vegan, and gluten-free stand out on one of the pages.  Then there’s a section of typical coffee shop fare with an espresso products, muffins, scones and croissants.  There’s a page full of flatbreads and pastas, and another of deli sandwiches. Derek finds himself torn between the chicken and broccoli stir-fry and the pizza burger from the American section.

 

“It’s like mini-cozy Cheesecake factory,” Laura mutters as she flips through her menu, apparently undecided.

 

Derek mentally agrees, but doesn’t bother to voice his opinion as he pursues the menu.   

 

In the end, Laura orders the California club, Cora gets the chop salad, and Derek decides on the chicken and broccoli stir-fry.   They spend most of the dinner listening to Cora, whose way more chatty than usual, but Derek supposes its easier to talk about things when the she can physically show or explain them. Derek can’t help but smile as he partakes with the conversation with his sisters.

 

It’s when they’re arguing about dessert that it happens.

 

Four men noisily enter the restaurant, obviously arguing about something, and making their way to the one empty corner when one of them stops and shouts, “Cora!”

  
The arguing immediately stops, and they all fall silent and start heading towards their table.  Derek immediately feels the need to put on the protective big brother role, because what if they were arguing about Cora?  What if they all wanted to date her (it was possible, Cora was his little sister and awesome)?  After all, they all shut up eerily fast and headed straight towards her.  Normal friends didn’t act like that – did they?

 

The one that shouted her name reached the table first. He’s tall with wavy blond hair, and is looking at Cora with a small smile on his face. 

 

Yeah, Derek thought, he was definitely going to play the big brother role. 

 

The second guy is shorter and obviously younger than Cora.  He looks really uncomfortable and shoots them an unsure smile.  Derek’s guard relaxes just a fraction.   

 

The two others slowly come up on the table, talking in hushed voices, when Cora starts the introductions.

 

“This is Isaac,” she says waving at the tall blond, “and Liam.”

 

Before she could introduce the other two, one of them worms his way to the front of the table with a wide grin. “Hey, Cora!  This must be Laura and Derek.” He says looking between Laura and Derek.

 

Derek freezes.  He knows exactly who that is.

 

“It’s great to finally meet you guys! Cora talks about you guys a lot.” He laughs then, his amber eyes crinkling as he does so.  “Well, when she does talk.  I’m Stiles and this is Scott.”  He says grabbing his friend and pulling him closer to the table.

 

And yeah, Derek knew that too.

 

They were obviously waiting for some sort of reaction, but Derek was having trouble remembering what words were. Stiles was just as gorgeous in person than he was on a screen.  Everything seemed amplified, and _right there._ Derek could feel the energy radiating off of him, and Derek just wanted to get up and lean into it. He wanted to bite his pink lips just as he promised to over text, to run his fingers through his hair and pull to hear the sounds that Stiles would make.  Derek’s gaze drops down to Stiles’ hands that are now resting on his table, and they’re just as big in real life.  He wonders if they’re calloused underneath or smooth like the rest of him seems. As his mind starts to drift to more filthy thoughts that are going to get him in trouble, he tears his eyes away. He finds that most of them are looking back and forth between Derek and Laura.  He takes a peek her way, and she just looks as dumbfounded as he feels. She’s openly gaping at Stiles, and Derek hopes Cora’s managed to take photographic evidence.

 

Stiles’ smile slowly fades from his face, and Derek notices how his body kinda seems to droop and shutdown.  All that energy slowly disappearing, and Derek feels a strong desire to prevent that from ever happening ever again. 

 

“Hi,” is all he manages to croak out, looking only at Stiles.  “I’m Derek. It’s nice to fin- It’s nice to meet you.”

 

Stiles gains some of his confidence back and he gives a small chuckle.  “Yeah, I know. We did that part already. “

 

Everyone whips his and her heads around to Laura when she finally breaks down.  In laughter.

 

“You’re Stilespedia!” is all she manages to get out between fits of laughter.  Derek tightly clenches his hands into fists as he hopes that Laura won’t say anything.  

 

“I can’t believe you’ve watched those videos, Laura,” Cora says shaking head.   “And know them well enough to recognize him.  Please, don’t tell me you’ve watched them too, Derek. They’re idiotic.”

 

“Hey,” Stiles exclaims in outrage.

 

Derek tears his eyes away from Stiles (he’s not even sure when he started staring at him again) and makes himself focus on Cora.

 

“I know them,” he admits quietly. It isn’t much of a confession. He lives with Laura, and if she were amused by something, she’d show him. 

 

“So, you know what I have to deal with,” she says gesturing to the boys. 

 

“A walking encyclopedia that can do your homework for you?” Derek asks.

 

That just makes Laura laugh harder.

 

“Not I don’t appreciate the support, man,” Stiles says looking at Laura oddly, “But it wasn’t that funny.”

 

“Just ignore her,” Derek advises. “The rest of try to.”

 

Laura finally gets a hold of her self – mostly. “So Cora, you never mentioned that your friends have a wildly popular YouTube channel. 

 

“Yeah,” Cora finally says, after scrutinizing Laura and trying to figure out what’s going on  “Stiles, Scott, and Isaac and are in the same graduating class. We took a lot of gen eds together.Liam’s a first year and a friend of Scott’s.” 

 

“Cora takes a some classes with Allison and Kira, too,” Scott adds.  Derek can’t help but notice that his eyes immediately flickers to Isaac, who goes tense, and that Stiles and Cora share a look and rolls their eyes. 

 

“I’m hurt, Cora.  You haven’t even mentioned us?  But we’re buds!”  Stiles says with a grin. “I’d like we’re more than just gen ed buddies.” 

 

“We’re not buddies at all.” Cora retorts, but there’s not heat behind it. 

 

“ Well, then why are we wasting our time talking to you?  We should really study and finish showing Liam the best study tips ever!  It was nice the meet the rest of the Hale family. We’ll probably see you around.”

 

The other three boys echo Stiles’ sentiments with good-byes and nice to meet yous and head towards the other side of the restaurant.   And then Laura collapses on Derek’s shoulder, in, thankfully, a smaller fit of giggles. 

 

Derek, distracted by Laura, misses Stiles turn around and slowly trail his eyes down Derek’s body before zooming in on his torso. Stiles contemplates for a few seconds before turning around and rejoining his group of friends.

 

Instead, Derek listens as Laura rambles on how she can’t believe that they just met Stiles, and that Cora’s known him the entire time.

 

“Stiles has actually been thinking about stopping Stilespedia.” Cora tells them mildly.

 

That gets their attention and shuts Laura up “What?” They both ask. 

 

“Yeah, he’s been real distracted lately. Even for him.  He’s over the moon over some guy,” Cora explains before she finishes her beer.  “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, right?”  She asks narrowing her eyes at them. 

 

“Why would you say that?” Derek asks totally avoiding eye contact. 

 

“Oh my god, they’re so obnoxious!” Laura bursts out. Derek tries to kick her under the table, but it’s a little difficult when she’s sitting right next to him.

 

“I knew it!” Cora crows.  “I saw your face!” She says pointing at Derek, “And Laura said you’ve been nuts over this YouTube guy.”  And then Cora’s face shuts down.  “Your not allowed to make a move while you’re here.” She commands strictly.

 

“Why not?”  Derek asks incredulously (he was already trying to work out the best way to tell Stiles who he is).

 

“Because, I still have another month of living with him until graduation.  I would like him to actually concentrate on that and not fucking my older brother. Or moping after you leave. Just wait until after graduation.”

 

“Cora.”  Derek growls, frustrated.  He understands that they still have to figure out the long distance thing, but if he doesn’t tell Stiles now and tells him later, he’s not sure Stiles will ever forgive him.

 

“Derek.” Cora growls in reply.

 

“You know, I think we should chocolate torte for dessert,” Laura says. 

 

Cora and Derek both groan, and start arguing about dessert choices once again, argument forgotten for now.    

 

* * *

 

 

Cora shows up at the hotel room way too early for Derek’s liking the next morning.  She drags both Laura and Derek out of bed with coffee and promises of French toast and then informs them that they are both coming to her lacrosse game. Neither of them really bothers to get dressed, figuring they’ll blend in well enough with the rest of the college students in sweats and hoodies.  Derek’s pretty sure Laura doesn’t even bother to put on a bra but just slides on her shoes and yanks her hair into a ponytail. 

 

Derek’s going commando, though, so he’s has no room to judge.   He slides on his sneakers and runs his hand through his hair, hoping he doesn’t have bedhead, but he doesn’t bother to check in the mirror.   

 

Cora plays on an interval lacrosse team for fun. But, Cora’s always been very completive, and Derek wonders if the rest of her team is too.  Cora dropped Derek and Laura off at the stands and then made her way to the lacrosse field, leaving them to watch. 

 

There’s a guy that looks like he should be an Abercrombie model, with the douchebag look on his face and perfectly stylized hair that is rounding Cora’s team up to do warm-ups.  Or trying to.  The girls easily fall into running laps.  There’s a one with fiery red hair, which Derek thinks is Lydia, if he’s remembering the stories from Cora correctly.  Then there’s a pretty girl of Asian descent, and one with brown hair done up in braids. The one with braids and Cora seem to be racing along the field.  The team must be just as competitive as her, Derek thinks. 

 

He looks back to the Abercrombie model whose arguing with the rest of the team.  There’s a set of twins and an olive skinned boy without his shirt, and _damn_.  Derek thinks as he trails his eyes up the man’s torso.  Derek’s not a stranger to six packs.  He’s worked hard on his own, but the man’s muscle to body mass is astounding, and Derek can’t help but watch as he goes off running into the field. 

 

But then, he catches a glimpse of pale skin littered with moles, and Derek can’t help but admire the man’s broad shoulders and how pretty the birthmarks starkly standout against his skin. It takes Derek a moment before he realizes that he knows that skin, and that back.  In fact, he has multiple images saved of him on his phone. Derek hastily runs his fingers through his hair, wishing he had actually gotten dressed and looked more presentable instead of showing up like the fucking mess he was. Derek continues to watch as Stiles struggles to take his sweatshirt off, and ends up taking his jersey off along with it.  Stiles tries to separate the jersey from his sweatshirt but they seem to be twisted together, and Derek chuckles a little.  He knows Cora’s going to kill him for oogling after her speech last night, but he continues to admire from afar. 

 

Stiles finally pulls the jersey free and tugs it back over his head, and Derek sighs wistfully as his back is covered again and then the guy turns around and Derek is staring right into Stiles’ warm brown eyes.

 

The way they alight with recognition makes Derek’s breath hitch, and is glad to note the color that quickly rises into Stiles’ cheeks before he gives a cheeky smile and darts onto the field. 

 

Derek actually enjoys watching the game, and not just because he get’s to watch Stile run across the field, his t-shirt slowly getting soaked with sweat and clinging to his broad frame showing hints of his muscles and how they move underneath (ok, so Derek spends about 75% of the time watching Stiles).  Cora’s team is definitely competitive.  Even Scott and Stiles seem to have a competitive streak, although they have no problems goofing off in between quarters.  There are a couple of moments where Stiles drops the ball and Cora starts yelling at him, or when Kira trips over her own two feet and the Abercrombie model scolds her, but all in all they’re pretty in sync and completely cream the other team. 

 

Derek and Laura yell themselves horse during the game, and at the end, Laura bounds off to the field yelling her congrats and giving everyone a high-five.  Derek can’t help but laugh and follow her sister to the sweating lacrosse team.

 

Cora and Laura start casual conversations with the rest of the team, while Derek hangs out at the edge, just content to watch them when Stiles wanders over. 

 

“Hey,” Stiles greets him with a small smile.

 

And Derek, riding high from the thrill of watching the game totally forgets about everything.  That Stiles has no idea who he is, but Derek was having fun and it felt so right to be actually standing there next to Stiles that he breaks into a huge, genuine smile.  The smiles he reserves for the ones he’s truly comfortable with, his friends and his family.

 

“Good game,” Derek says nodding to the field.

 

Stiles laughs, “You can thank Cora for that. She’s the one that helped whip us into shape.”

 

Derek raises an eyebrow.  “Really?  You all seem really into it.  Intensely so. I would figure those two would’ve been just as effective,” he says nodding to the Abercrombie model and to the girl with the braid.

 

Stiles snorts and runs his hand though his hair. “Jackson’s a grade A dick, and would have never be effective in actually training us.  And Allison isn’t normally that competitive. Well, she is, when one it turns into a competition type of thing, which happens a lot when Cora’s involved. “

 

“I’m not surprised.” Derek says laughing. He doesn’t miss the way Stiles’ eyes seem to focus on just him during that moment, or how Stiles seems slightly more flushed than he did a second ago, and for a second Derek finds him jealous of himself.  He feels protective of his YouTube personas that’s been sexting and building up to something for a month now, while Stiles is checking him out, unknowing it’s the same person.  

 

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees softly. “When we started the team, Scott, Isaac, and I were a mess, and couldn’t play for shit.  It was intervals and supposed to be for _fun_.”  He stresses with a gesture of his hands, that Derek can’t help but follow and think of some of his pervious jerk-off sessions that had featured those hands. “But Jackson was angry all the fucking time, and Cora wasn’t amused, so we started having regular practices. And four years later, it actually pays off.”

 

“Four years?” Derek doesn’t remember Cora talking about lacrosse or Stiles or half of these people on the team, but it seems like they’re all really close friends, not to mention that Cora’s been in classes with Stiles since Freshman year.  There’s a couple here and there that he can place as people in some of Cora’s stories.  Lydia and Isaac, and Allison, he thinks, but not the rest of them. 

 

“Yeah, dude.  We started playing freshman year.”  Stiles looks at Derek expectedly, and then his smile turns down and Derek can see hurt reflecting in his eyes.  “Cora really hasn’t talked about me?  I mean us?”

 

“Cora doesn’t really use names?” Derek hedges.

 

A bittersmile graces Stiles’ lips, and Derek hates it. “I- I mean.  I’m sure she just.”  Derek attempts, but he’s never been good at lying or pep talks.

 

Stiles just waves his hand.  “Don’t worry about it, dude.”

 

“Don’t call me dude.” Derek bites out frustrated. “And its not okay. You’re obviously upset about it, and –“ Derek searches for something else to say, but ends up finishing with a put down sigh.  “Don’t feel bad.  It’s just **Cora.”**

 

Stiles biting down on his lip, making his lips turn a little pinker along the edges, and Derek can’t help but zoom in on the flesh in-between his lips.  

Stiles just looks at him, scrutinizing him, Derek realizes when he finally drags his eyes up from Stiles’ lips and looks him in the eyes. 

 

“I knew that Cora had a brother named Derek,” Stiles finally says. 

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah.  Just never thought it would mean anything.”

 

Derek frowns in response.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Derek can see Stiles having an internal battle the way his face quickly morphs from disbelief andindignant to confusion and hesitant. 

 

“I just thought. . .”  Stiles pauses and shakes his head.  “Looks like I was wrong.  Um, just don’t mention that, okay?”

 

“Okay?” Derek replies slowly.

 

Stiles bops his head up and down. “Great!”

 

Cora uses that moment to interrupt them.

 

“You guys ready for breakfast?” She asks rhetorically. “ I’m riding with Lydia, Allison, and Isaac.  Laura’s going with Scott, Kira, and Liam, and Isaac.  Danny’s going with the twins, so that leaves you two together.  Stiles will show you the way, Derek.”

 

It’s only then that Derek realizes that the rest of the team was no longer on the field, but already trampled out to the parking lot and were getting into cars. 

 

* * *

 

Derek isn’t sure what he had just missed in the conversation with Stiles and expects the car ride to be awkward, but it really isn’t. Completely.   If, Derek ignores that Stiles kept checking his phone and gnawing at his lip every few minutes. When Stiles isn’t doing that, he shows Derek the best radio stations, and by the time they pull into the restaurant, they’re bickering about the best music. Out of reflex of arguing with Laura, Derek starts defending classic rock, while Stiles agrees that it is classic, but argues the future does offer improvements.  It’s a weird feeling, bickering and teasing the line of flirting with Stiles in real life.  A big part of him is relieved that they still share a connection and chemistry and the other part of him worries if he’s fucking himself over.    

 

They end up sitting across from each other in the restaurant, the only seats left at the table.  Derek slides into the chair next to Cora, and Stiles slides in next to Scott.  Derek wouldn’t think anything of it, except they’re at the very end, and it feels like they’re purposely kept out of the conversations the rest of the table is participating in. They end up talking mostly against themselves, and Derek doesn’t miss the weird looks that Stiles and Scott keep exchanging and then the looks Scott shares with the college side of the table. 

 

He asks Cora about it on the drive back to the hotel, but she doesn’t give an answer.  Derek decides it probably doesn’t matter anyways, especially when he’s distracted by his phone vibrating with a text message. 

 

It’s from Stiles. 

 

**I haven’t heard your voice in over 24 hours.  I think I’m going through withdrawal.  Some guy is actually reminding me of you and it’s pure torture.**

 

Derek pierces his lips shut in effort to keep himself from smiling, and, for once, he’s glad that Laura and Cora forced him to sit in the back of the car so they can’t see him smiling. 

 

Derek texts back

 

**Miss you too.**

* * *

 

 

Derek sees Stiles everywhere. Every time he goes somewhere with Cora, Stiles just happens to show up.  Even when Cora’s working on in class, and steers him in the direction of the gym or the library where he picks up the complete volume of Edgar Allen Poe, Stiles appears. 

 

He’d blame Cora, well, he does blame Cora, but even when he decides to go out for a run without telling her, he nearly gets run over by Stiles and his jeep (He owns a dirt-old blue jeep. Derek’s pretty sure that it’s older than he is). 

 

Laura tackles him about it when they get back to the hotel room Wednesday night.  Literally. He’s on his bed attempting to read a book when she gets out of the bathroom and pounces on his bed. Derek ends up banging his head against the wall and almost breaks her nose when she lands on him. After she assured its not broken and that Derek doesn’t have a concussion, she lays down next to him.

 

“Why don’t you just tell him?”

 

“Tell who, what?” Derek asks, still rubbing his head when it had collided with the hotel wall. 

 

“Your lover, YouTube, boy.” 

 

“He’s not my lover,” Derek grumbles.

 

“From what I’ve heard in the apartment you are.”

 

Derek flushes deep red.  “Laura!” he says, mortified.  He couldn’t believe he was that loud. 

 

She just chuckles.  “Relax, little bro.  It doesn’t freak me out. Or keep me from my beauty sleep, so it’s fine.”

 

“It should,” Derek grumbles in response, refusing to look at her in the eye. 

 

“Whatever.  It’s not like – you know what.  I’m going to be nice and not even mention it, because thinking about it even creeps me out, so moving on.  Why don’t you tell him who you are?”

 

“What about Cora?” he hedges.

 

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head. I talked to her about it, and she’s actually fine about it.  She’s just stressed out and cranky.”

 

“She’s always stressed out and cranky.” Derek replies.

 

“Yeah, she’s just like her older brother that way.” Laura says smirking at him. She rolls over onto her stomach. “So.  You. Him.  Why haven’t you told him?”

 

“You don’t think I don’t want to?” Derek asks frustrated.

 

“Well, you haven’t yet.”

 

Derek sighs and throws his book over on the side table. “How am I supposed to just let Stiles know I’m the guy he’s been talking to out of no where? And the longer I wait, the more I feel like I’m lying to him.”

 

“Then stop waiting” Laura responds like it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

 

“But what if it’s already too late? What if he hates me for lying to him? Or not telling him? Maybe, I just shouldn’t say anything at all.  It might be best.”

 

“Oh, god.” Laura says.  “Don’t be thick.  You’re just scared.  You just need to suck it up and tell him.”

 

Derek doesn’t know how to respond so he picks him his book again.  

 

“And don’t think I haven’t noticed that you haven’t been talking to him as much on the phone. 

 

After ignoring her, she finally sighs and goes over and collapses on her own bed.  Derek pretends to read for another five minutes before giving up and settling down under the comforter.  The problem is that she’s right.  He’s scared shitless. Stiles is the best thing that’s happened to him in a long time, and he’s already messing it up. He groans into his pillow, and promises himself that tomorrow, tomorrow he will make it right.

 

* * *

 

 

Of course, he runs into Stiles the next day at the honor’s presentations (where Cora does spectacularly, if Derek says so himself).  And the next day, and the next. They talk a lot, and get along as well as Derek expects, but every time they breach a topic of conversation Derek’s talked to Stiles about online, the whole conversation gets stilted. Derek starts to flounder and stamper, because he knows what Stiles is going to say.  Derek tries to figure out how to say _I know_ without sounding like the biggest creeper ever, and Stiles gets a weird gleam in his eye that flusters Derek even more. When Stiles somehow fluently brings up three previous, specific conversations in a row (Derek isn’t sure how Stiles managed to smoothly transition from melanistic grey wolves to how sour patch kids are the best gummies ever and then to arguing if basketball or lacrosse was better), on Friday, Derek just shuts down and heads back to the hotel.

  
He can’t decide if he’s going crazy or what.  He berates himself the whole drive back telling himself he should’ve just said something!  There were so many opportunities.  But why were there so many opportunities?  What were the chances that those topics of conversation would just come up? Derek gets back to the hotel room, gloriously devoid of Laura and Cora, and collapses on his bed **.**   Derek was pretty sure he was just being paranoid and acting like total loser in front of Stiles, but he couldn’t help it. 

 

When his phone started buzzes insistently, Derek is tempted to throw it against the wall, not really in the mood to deal with people. He glances down at the screen and see’s Stiles’ name flashing. 

 

Derek thinks about hitting ignore and sending Stiles a text instead, like he had four previous times this week, but if he was being a chicken to Stiles in real life, he could at least pretend to be normal over the phone.

 

“Stiles?”  Derek asks into his phone. 

 

“Hey, Derek,” Stiles replies, his voice husky and low. And dammit, that was Stiles sex voice. The one where was thinking about sex or had already started. 

 

“Stiles,” Derek says weakly, shooting glances at the door, waiting for Laura to walk in because she has the worst possible timing on the face of the universe.

 

“I’ve missed you,” Stiles tells him. “And not just me.”

 

“That’s real mature,” Derek says, grasping for straws. “Referring to your dick as third person.”

 

“MMmm,” is what Derek hears coming out of the phone, followed by some heavy breathing. 

 

Derek closes his eyes and adjusts himself in his jeans.

 

“Where are you?”

 

“What?”  Derek asks perturbed by the question. 

 

“Where are you?”  Stiles repeats.

 

“Oh. Uh, my hotel room.”

 

“Are you alone?”

 

Derek hesitates.  “Yes, but Stiles, I don’t think-“

 

“No, that’s good.  Great actually.”  There’s something different about his voice.  It almost seems its normal non-sexually aroused tone.

 

“I’m not going to,’ Derek gestures down at himself and glares at his own half-hard dick.  Umph.  “But I can help you, if you want.”

 

That gets a moan out of Stiles. “I want,” 

 

In the background Derek can hear a skittering of laughter.  “Where are you?” Derek demands.

 

“Um, dorm room.  Yeah, sorry.  People in the kitchen are just really loud.”

 

Derek pauses.  “And you still want to?”

 

“I need to,” is the reply, and Derek can hear the desperation in the voice. 

 

“Okay, okay.  What do you want?” 

 

“I want to see you.  You with your stupidly perfect abs and hairy chest. All that hair that travels down to _everywhere_.”

 

“I can send you a picture,” Derek offers, getting up and heading over to the bathroom. 

 

“God, Derek” Stiles says, like Derek hasn’t even spoken.  “I need to get me teeth on your muscles and my hands on your ass.  How are you so fit?  It’s not even fair. I want to do so many things to that ass, you don’t even know.  I think maybe I’d want to rim you first.  For hours. Until you’re begging for it.”

 

Derek chokes, and can feel the rush of blood travel straight into is cock.  His jeans are now noticeably uncomfortable.

 

“But I really want to know how your stubble would feel against my ass. I think it would feel good, scratching right up against my rim where I’m sensitive.  I’d say we should try that, but I would want to have something on hand incase of beard burn. Cause that would suck.”

 

Derek’s brain finally stops stalling over the idea of Stiles’ rimming him for hours and processes what Stiles said about the beard burn.  The thought of seeing Stile’s unblemished ass turned red by him, sends a thrill down Derek’s spine, and then Derek’s brain screeches to a halt. 

 

“How do you know I have stubble?” Derek breathes into the phone.

 

Stiles chuckles on the other end.

 

“Stiles?”  Derek, asks, trying not to freak out.  So, of course, he jumps a mile out of his skin when there’s a knock on the door.

 

“Fuck.”  Derek mutters.  He glances down at obvious bulge in his pants and grabs his leather jacket from the open closet to hold in front of him.  “I have someone I have to get rid of,” Derek says into the phone right before he opens the door.

 

“You want to get rid of me?” Stiles pouts as Derek opens the door. 

 

 _What?_  Derek thinks as he takes in the sight of Stiles standing there in stupidly tight red pants and holding his phone up. 

 

The pouting disappears while Derek just stands there gaping and a smirk quickly forms. 

 

Stiles approaches Derek, slides right up against him. All Derek can hear is how loudly his heart is pounding in his chest.  The sheer proximately to Stiles is intoxicating, and he’s still struggle to figure out how he’s gotten there when Stiles leans in and whispers against the shell of his ear.

 

“You’re such an idiot,” Stiles tells him fondly before he brings their lips together. 

 

Derek opens up immediately to Stiles’ touch. He doesn’t even think about it. It was all he had been thinking about for the past month that it just felt right that it was finally happening.

 

And then Derek’s brain reconnects with his body, and he stumbled backwards, Stiles falling into the room after him.

 

“What – I don’t.”  Derek gasps out.  “How?”

 

“How did I know it was you?” Stiles says trying to fill in the blanks.

 

“You knew it was me?”

 

Stiles bursts out laughing. 

 

Derek stared at him, feeling even more unsure of the situation as it went on.  Was Stiles laughing at him or laughing _at_ him? Was this just one big joke?  


“No.  I always decide to randomly show up at a guy’s place and kiss them. Especially when they’re my friend’s brothers.  It’s my weakness.” Stiles finally says, too amused to even keep a straight face and normal voice as he says it. 

 

Derek still can’t decide what the laughing was about or if Stiles is mad at him like he thought he would be or. . . Derek continues to stand away from Stiles still and unsure. 

 

Stiles sighs and slowly takes a couple of paces closer to Derek.  “It wasn’t that hard to figure out.  What were the chances that you had the same name as Cora’s brother?  Even though I can’t believe the probability that you _are_ Cora’s brother.  I mean how crazy is that?  I mean you did know that I went to University of California. As did your sister. I can’t believe you didn’t ask her if she knew who I was.“ He stills, catching the sight of Derek’s face that still hasn’t changed since he broke away from the kiss. “Anyways.  There was the name and the voice.  We’ve spoken on the phone often enough that I know what you sound like.”  Stiles quickly gave Derek a dirty grin.  “I like to replay how you say my name in my head.  But yeah, you’re abs are kinda memorable and they way we talked was just so familiar. So, I started bringing up some old conversations and you either would give the same answers or wig out. I waaaas waiting for you to just admit it, but I got impatient and decided to act.”

 

Stiles then looks over at Derek who still doesn’t look happy to see him and he starts to frown, looking how Derek feels; hopeful but very hesitant.  “You were going to tell me, right?  I’m not the only one, I mean.  Do you want this?” Stiles asked gesturing between them.  

 

When Derek doesn’t reply right away (he was trying to figure out a way that wouldn’t get him in trouble), Stiles’ confidence completely disappears.

 

  “Oh!” he responds in a much higher voice than normal.  “I mean.  If you didn’t want to. Um.  I’ll just leave.”

 

Stiles starts stumbling backwards to the door, and Derek panics and quickly moves forward and grabs his arm. Stiles immediately stills at looks down at where Derek is gripping his bicep.

 

“I don’t want you to leave.”  Derek tells him.

 

“You don’t?”

 

Derek shakes his head and loosens his grip on Stiles’ arm, rubbing his thumb up and a down as he finally finds the words to speak.  “No.” he replies softly. “I want this.   More than anything right now. I just”

The scared animal look is gone from Stiles’ face. Instead, he moves in closer. “You what, Derek?”

 

Derek brings his eyes up to meet Stiles’. “I was scared. Scared that you wouldn’t like me in the beginning and then scared that you’d hate me because I didn’t tell you when I first got here.  Scared that I’d lose you completely.  I don’t think I could’ve handled that.”

 

“You’re not going to lose me. I’m right here,” he replies glancing down at where Derek is still holding his arm. 

 

Derek starts to breath a little easier and releases his grip completely.  “So you’re not mad at me?” 

 

Stiles snorts.  “I may have been a little frustrated this week.  You showing up here and being all perfect. And at first I was thinking why did I have to fall for two jerks with impeccable bodies, but you know I started figuring it out and kept giving you open doors to tell me and you never took them. I might have been a little annoyed. But I have plans that you can make it up to me.”  Stiles says looking up at Derek beneath his eyelashes, his face resorting to that smirk that makes Derek feel weak in the knees.

 

Derek gulps.  “You do?”

 

Stiles licks his lips and stands right up against Derek’s. He settles his arms on Derek’s hip, one hand slowly moving upwards underneath Derek’s shirt. 

 

“I meant everything I said on the phone earlier. I’m going to take you apart.”

 

Derek drops the leather jacket he was holding as he and Stiles move in, their lips colliding together.  It’s not as gentle as the first kiss, but purposeful and heated. And its better, because both of them are actively seeking each other out and leaning in towards one another. Stiles starts pushing Derek backwards until he’s right against the bed.  Before Derek knows it, he has Stiles pushing him down and straddling his legs with his hands roaming up his torso.  Derek runs his tongue into the wet heat of Stiles’ mouth as he grabs onto Stiles hips, pulling him closer.  Stiles hands end up in Derek’s hair, and tugs leading Derek to open his mouth in a moan. Derek can feel Stiles smile against his cheek before he pushes him down on the bed.  Stiles shoots him a truly filthy grin that makes Derek shudder at the promise of it, and then Stiles covers him again, this time his lips trail over his neck finding the places that make Derek whimper. Derek uses the opportunity to explore the planes of Stiles’ back, and get well aquatinted with Stiles’ ass, loving how the mounds of flesh feels beneath his fingers.

 

* * *

 

 

 Stiles makes good on his promise that day.  It isn’t until a couple hours later that Derek and Stiles are finally enjoying post-orgasmic bliss.   Their bodies are both covered in sweat and the sheets are a mess, but they’ve collapsed on the other side of the bed, lazily trading kisses as they try to put off sleep or the realization that should really get up and shower. 

 

They’re both so out of it (or so absorbed with each other) that they don’t even notice the hotel door opening.  

 

 “You’ve got to be kidding me,” they hear Cora say flatly. 

 

They both freeze and then Stiles hides his face into the groove of Derek’s neck.  Derek reaches for the sheet and hastily pulls it to cover both of them.

 

“Oh, but look at them, Cora, they’re happy. And they didn’t do anything on my bed. I count it as a win.” Laura says, just grinning at them.

 

“I did not need to see my brother’s or my friend’s anything.” Cora retaliates.

 

Derek winces and wishes they that they had remembered to put the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door.  Or remembered that they were in a freaking hotel room.

 

“Have they left yet?” Stiles mutters into Derek’s skin.

 

Derek manages a smile and pulls Stiles closer. “Not yet,” he says, refusing to even look at his sisters.

 

Cora sighs.  “Does this at least mean you two are done being stupid?”

 

“We’re only stupid for each other,” Stiles says finally lifting his very red face off from Derek’s chest.

 

Laura coos and Cora gags.  Derek blushes but can’t help but smile anyway.

 

“I’ll let everyone know.  They’ll be thrilled,” Cora says in monotone.

  
“I am too,” Stiles says and leans down to go back to kissing Derek, who can’t help but arch into it. 

 

Seconds later, they hear hotel door open and close. Stiles pulls away with a smile. “We’re going to make this work, right?”

 

Derek nods.  “We’re going to make this work,” he promises.

 


End file.
